


five o'clock somewhere

by kay_emm_gee



Series: the kids aren't alright (The 100 tumblr prompts) [27]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, The Office AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4230846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Can I interest you in a Bellarke The Office au? Because let's be real Bellamy could sell anything and Clarke would totally sketch between answering phone calls.</p><p>Summary: Bellamy is a good friend, having an excellent talent for making Clarke smile despite their mindless jobs and absolutely ridiculous boss, but with one prank, their friendship might be headed for something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five o'clock somewhere

Except for the soft scratch of her pencil sliding over paper, the office was silent. Odd, Clarke thought, because it was ten past eleven, meaning Kane should be harassing his employees about what they were going to wish for when the minute hand ticked to eleven. It was a daily ritual, the 11:11 Wishfest as Kane had taken to calling it, something Clarke and her co-workers had come to dread, because apparently their wishes (like holiday bonuses, or new cars) weren’t exciting enough for Kane (who wished for a tropical island named after him–or a space shuttle, or an entire planet,  _good grief_ ). Their regional manager booed and blew raspberries at practically whatever they suggested, telling them to  _dream bigger, you delinquents_  but the only one who ever took it personally was Murphy, the assistant (to) the regional manager, each time wishing for some special type of knife that came with your name engraved on it. Kane passionately hated that wish in particular, no matter how much Murphy insisted that it was the best quality knife on the market.

Bellamy, bless him, had tried to end this latest round of Kane’s absurdness by arguing that wishes wouldn’t come true if you told them to anybody. As usual, however, Kane had deflected, making up some nonsense rule about how if at least one person in the room blocked their ears and didn’t hear it, then the wish still counted, or something like that. Clarke didn’t particularly care to understand Kane’s odd reasoning in any depth–she already had too much insight into his thought process being the secretary and therefore responsible for proofreading all of his correspondence and briefs,  _thank you very much_.

So it was odd, that as Wishfest time approached, there was no door busting open, no cheesy off-tune horribly composed original theme song sung, no Kane whatsoever. Concerned, because Kane deviating from his scheduled shenanigans was never a good sign, Clarke tore her eyes away from her latest sketch to peer into his office. At seeing him slumped over on his keyboard, fast asleep and drooling, she let out a snort, which echoed loudly in the gravely quiet office. When she looked over to the sales associates’ desks, though, not many had acknowledged her small outburst, except her least favorite person in the office, and her most favorite.

Murphy was glaring daggers at her for interrupting his focus, so she sent him a tense smile as a barely attempted apology. Raising two fingers to his eyes, he then pointed them at her, mouthing  _I’m watching you, princess_  before returning his attention to his computer screen. Clarke rolled her eyes, grinning as she looked over at Bellamy, who was also smiling, the curve of his lips friendly and curious. Using her pen, she gestured at Kane’s office, then mimed sleeping. Bellamy ducked his head and shook it in amused disbelief, his grin growing wider, if that was possible. A giggle bubbled up in Clarke’s chest, because they had the absolute  _worst_ boss, but before it escaped, Bellamy’s eyes lit up with mischief.

Holding up one finger, he rose and walked over to Miller, their temp intern for the last three quarters. As Bellamy whispered to him, a triumphant smile appeared on Miller’s face–and  _well, wasn’t that a surprise_ , Clarke thought, because ‘Mr. Grumpy Cat’, as Kane had so enthusiastically named him, never smiled (well, unless that guy Monty from the IT department came up to fix their copier or WiFi, or what have you). They gestured back and forth, glancing around the room thoughtfully, obviously planning something. Soon enough, though, they came to an agreement. Then Bellamy retreated to the accounting cluster of desks, again engaging the occupants–Jasper and Raven–in whispers, while Miller did the same with Harper and Monroe from HR.

Her curiosity growing, Clarke stood, spinning her pencil between her fingers, watching Bellamy go from desk to desk, spreading happy reactions in his wake. Just as she was about to go after him, he turned and jogged over to her. As he approached, still wearing that warm, impish smile that had her cheeks flushing for reasons she didn’t quite understand (or admit), she saw a few of her co-workers dragging their chairs to the walls and standing up on them, while the rest gathered their belongings, as if getting ready to leave.

“What did you do?” She teased.

“Pack your bags,” he replied, excited. “It’s time to go home.”

Confused, Clarke began to ask him to elaborate, but then she noticed that her co-workers on the chairs were changing the various clocks around the office to closing time. Clapping a hand over her mouth, Clarke looked back at Bellamy giddily.

“Really?” She whispered through her fingers, stifling a laugh when he nodded smugly, saluting her before turning around to gather his own things. 

“Wait!” She called out quietly, grabbing his arm which flexed underneath her touch. “What about the clocks in Kane’s office?”

A mixture of disappointment and frustration shadowed his eyes, but thinking quickly, Clarke squeezed her hand, which was still on his forearm, and smiled reassuringly. 

“I’ll take care of it,” she whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

Bellamy cocked his head, as if asking if she was sure, and Clarke just nodded determinedly.

“Brave princess,” Bellamy murmured before sauntering back off to his desk, the pleased smile back on his face.

From the second Clarke slipped into Kane’s office, she held her breath, not even daring to risk a single exhale potentially waking her boss up. There was a close call when she had to get the mouse cord out from under his arm, but Kane just let out a choking snore and slept soundly on as she changed the time on his computer screen and his weird bonsai tree clock that his mother had given him upon getting promoted to regional manager (a story he told every year on the anniversary of his promotion in great detail and through blubbering sobs, unfortunately for the rest of them).

When she finally slid back out into the office, door closing with a muffled _snick_  behind her, her co-workers silently cheered, raising their hands in celebration. Cheeks heating from the attention and residual nerves, Clarke tried to cool them as she gathered her things, but the way Bellamy was staring at her, his gaze full of pride and something else, didn’t help much.

By the time she had slipped on her coat and slung her purse over her shoulder, she was the only one in the office (her co-workers couldn’t get out of this prison of an office fast enough), except for one other.

Bellamy was leaning on her desk, still wearing a satisfied grin and watching her with happy eyes.

“Are you doing anything now?” He asked, fingers drumming rapidly on the worn wooden surface of the counter.

“Well, considering I was supposed to be working all day, nothing in particular,” she responded, coming around the side of the desk to stand next to him.

He straightened, tugging on his tie, looking oddly nervous.

“Um, well, since you don’t have anything to do, how would getting a drink sound? With me, I mean. Not alone. Because drinking alone is weird. In public. Drinking alone in public is weird–right? It’s weird.”

Clarke let out a soft laugh, stomach flipping happily at his nervousness, because maybe his babbling meant that she wasn’t alone in feeling whatever this–their friendship, connection,  _whatever_ –was.

“It’s eleven in the morning,” she said, raising her eyebrows in mock disapproval even as a stupid, giddy smile crept onto her face.

The instantaneous way Bellamy’s expression slid towards contented relief at her reaction had her shifting just the slightest bit closer to him, and he relaxed further as he quipped, “Yeah, but it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

Another laugh, this one louder, escaped her, and then they both startled as crashing sound came from Kane’s office, followed by some pained moaning. Their boss was now awake, apparently.

After exchanging panicked but also exhilarated glances, Clarke dashed for the door with Bellamy right on her heels, and they raced towards their freedom and also maybe, just maybe, what could be considered a first date.


End file.
